Battleground
by SincerelyMK
Summary: "Listen, Neville," Kathryn hissed, eyes ablaze. "We're in this together or we're in this to die. We can't afford not to trust each other, so no keeping secrets, alright? No holding back." Something behind Neville's eyes snapped. In one fluid motion, he stepped forward and kissed her.
1. Chapter 1

Minerva McGonagall surveyed her sixth year transfiguration class with the careful and diligent eyes of a watchful cat. The students were attempting to conjure a water goblet from thin air, and so far, all of them were failing miserably. Only Hermione Granger had managed to master conjuration, which came as no surprise. There were two weeks left until the first level of N.E.W.T. exams, and McGonagall was beginning to worry that perhaps, this year, with the tension of war beginning to settle in on the wizarding world, her students wouldn't score as well as they could have. But then, she assured herself, she had that worry every year, and every year, her students' performance always exceeded her expectations.

There was one student, though, whom she feared might not score quite as well as he needed. Professor McGonagall's gaze focused on the downtrodden face of Neville Longbottom, who was presently glaring at his textbook and muttering incantations to himself, producing a thin and continuous wisp of smoke from the end of his wand. She would not care so much if this was a fifth-year class, or even if it was another struggling N.E.W.T. student, but she had a special kind of respect for Longbottom. In his fourth year, she met with him to discuss his floundering grades, and curious, she asked him what type of career he might want to pursue. He, very confidently–in the firmest voice she had ever heard him use–said, "I want to be an Auror." She was surprised at his choice, given that at the time, he was far behind in Transfiguration, Potions, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, all of which were necessary N.E.W.T.s for Auror training. He was also struggling in Charms, his only real aptitude seeming to be Herbology, which wasn't even a N.E.W.T. requirement. She brought this to his attention, and it looked as though he was on the verge of collapsing into his shell again, but he pushed forward. "I know I'm not very good at magic–especially the complicated stuff–and I really like Herbology, but…I want to do what my parents did. I want to pick up where they left off, make them proud."

"Well, Mr. Longbottom," McGonagall said, "if you want to be an Auror, you're going to have to improve your grades in all your classes to at least an _E_ by the end of your fifth year, or there's no way you'll even be considered for the training program."

He nodded, looking worried, but determined. "I can do it," he said.

And somehow he had. By the end of his fifth year, his Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts grades skyrocketed, despite the vile intercession of Delores Umbridge. With many nights spent sleepless in the library, and much help from Miss Granger, no doubt, Neville had managed to get his Potions and Transfiguration scores up to an_ Exceeds Expectations_ just in the nick of time. Now, though, his potions grade had fallen to an_ Acceptable_ (thanks to Professor Slughorn's more lenient hand; Snape would've given him a_ Dreadful_), and his Transfiguration was back down to a _Poor_. He needed no lower than an _Outstanding_ on his final exam to continue on to next year's Transfiguration N.E. . A feat that would be very difficult to attain if he was struggling with the very basics of conjuration.

McGonagall scanned the class for a suitable tutor. Her mind automatically leapt to Hermione Granger, but she knew Dumbledore had been having private lessons with her, Potter, and Weasley throughout the year that involved magic much more difficult than was taught at Hogwarts. Also, judging by the heated looks she and Weasley kept shooting at each other, she had enough to distract her from her studies.

She briefly considered Dean Thomas, who was quite gifted at Transfiguration, but knew that he and Longbottom were too good of friends, and would probably just end up goofing off if they spent too much time together. Instead of just Longbottom failing, both of them would.

Then her eyes landed on Kathryn Parker. She was a Gryffindor whose Transfiguration scores, in the past, could rival Granger's. Currently, she was rereading her textbook and running her hands through her long, dark hair, which was becoming more tangled by the minute. Her pale cheeks were flushed and she was clearly flustered by her lack of progress. She concentrated very hard on her wand movement, which she had almost perfected. If she coupled it with the correct incantation, she would very well produce the first non-Granger goblet of the day. Kathryn took a deep breath, pointed her wand at the table and said the spell: "_Vitrexorior."_

McGonagall watched as a strip of glass slithered out of her wand and wrapped itself into a water goblet. Seamus Finnigan, who was seated next to her, gawked, "Blimey, how'd you do that?" Other students glanced in her direction as she picked it up and inspected it for holes. When she was satisfied, she called out, her hand slightly raised, "Professor, I think I've done it."

McGonagall walked over, certain she had, but set her mouth in a terse line and inspected the glass herself. Kathryn held her breath. "Well done, Miss Parker," she said with a wink. "Five points to Gryffindor."

Kathryn exhaled and said, "Thanks, Professor." She was beaming ear to ear.

The bell rang and the class started shuffling out of the room.

Just as Kathryn was sliding her books into her bag, McGonagall said, "Miss Parker, do you have a moment? I'd like to have a word with you."

Kathryn nodded, her eyes alight with her recent victory. "Certainly."

"Mr. Longbottom, I'd like a word with you, too," McGonagall called over the ruckus.

Neville looked over at her, dread flooding his expression. Whenever she wanted a word with him, it was never a good one.

When the rest of the class was gone, Kathryn and Neville both stood in front of McGonagall's desk in uneasy silence. She sat down behind it and adjusted her spectacles. "Now," she began, "I'm assuming you two know each other?"

They both nodded. They'd been in the same house for six years, so they were on friendly terms, though they rarely spoke to one another.

"Mr. Longbottom, since you are in need of dire assistance with your upcoming exam, I am taking the liberty of asking Miss Parker to tutor you until the end of term. Miss Parker, would you be willing to help Mr. Longbottom for an hour every night for the next two weeks so he can improve his grade?"

Kathryn glanced from McGonagall to Neville, who was staring at the floor. "Sure, I'd be happy to help. Only if Neville wants me to, of course."

Neville looked up at Kathryn, perplexed. No one had ever asked him if he wanted help with schoolwork before. They just assumed he needed it.

"Well, Mr. Longbottom?" McGonagall said, impatient with his long pause. "Would you like Miss Parker to tutor you?"

Neville started. "Um, er, yes? I mean, yes. Yes, I would like that very much. Thank you." Kathryn smiled at him, her nose crinkling. He smiled back, nervously.

"Very well," said McGonagall, "You can work out whatever schedule suits the both of you best, as long as you meet for an hour every day. Also, Every night you'll have access to my classroom from seven to nine for practice space. Use it as you will."

"Sounds good," said Kathryn and Neville in unison.

"Excellent," said McGonagall. "I'll see you both in class Thursday."

They both turned and began chatting about their schedules for the next two weeks. As McGonagall watched them walk out of her classroom together, she did not know that her decision to make them work together would change both of their lives forever.


	2. Chapter 2

Neville sat in a corner of the library, tapping his quill on the table. He had started reviewing his notes two hours ago, and still made no progress on conjuration. At this point, he wasn't sure he knew he was even looking at the right notes. The door swung open, and Neville's head jerked up. It was just a group of second years. He looked back down at his note and hoped Kathryn would get there soon. They had agreed to meet Tuesday at half-past seven, and it was already quarter to eight. _She's probably just caught up at dinner,_ he thought, and returned to his revision.

By now he had read the same phrases and spells countless times over. His eyes felt dry and were starting to droop. He shouldn't have spent so long studying before the review session, but he didn't want to seem unprepared, or worse, a complete, hopeless idiot. From what he knew of Kathryn, she was nice enough to tutor him without judgment, but he really wished McGonagall hadn't asked her to help. Better yet, he wished he didn't _need_ her help. He wished he could've gotten through the N.E.W.T.s on his own, like any normal wizard his age. But no, he was Neville Longbottom, magical failure and all-around git.

The door opened again. Two Slytherins headed for the Magical Creatures section.

Neville leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head. _If only Transfiguration were as easy as Herbology_, he thought as his eyes slipped closed. In Transfiguration, all the incantations and wand movements got mixed up in his head, but plants were simple. Plants were identifiable. They could be spoken to, grown the way you wanted. They were alive and changing and you worked around them. You couldn't memorize how to nourish them. You just adapt as they grow.

Neville's mind drifted to the Flutterby bushes he'd been tending to all year, and he wondered if Professor Sprout would make sure they were fed properly over the summer. He knew she'd be busy with prepping the greenhouses for next year's lessons, but if his Flutterbies weren't fed, they'd uproot themselves and fly away. What if they flew all the way to Windermere to visit him? Would they be happy to see him…? Or would they fly through his window and devour him in his sleep…?

"Neville?" Neville jumped and the chair slid out from under him. He groaned, and rubbed his eyes. He was flat on his back on the hardwood floor and Kathryn Parker was leaning over him, concern etched across her face. "Neville, are you alright?"

He nodded, despite the growing pain in his head. "I'm good," he replied. He took the hand she offered and pulled himself to his feet. "What time is it?" he asked, straightening out his robes.

Her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink. "Five past eight. I'm so sorry, Neville. I was working on Astronomy and completely forgot."

Had it been twenty minutes already? He must have fallen asleep. "It's okay, I needed a break." He ran his hand through his hair, still trying to figure out exactly what was going on. He shook the sleep out of his head. "Shall we sit?" he said, motioning to the table.

He righted his chair, and she smiled, relieved that he wasn't upset. "I just get so caught up in my work sometimes, I don't know where I'm supposed to be."

Neville blinked, and a sleepy grin spread across his face. "I know what you mean," he said. He had fallen asleep thinking about Herbology. Again.

"Should we get studying, then?" Kathryn asked. "What do you need help with?"

He looked down at the mess of parchment in front of him, then back up at her. "Everything."

"Then let's start with simple transformation."

Kathryn and Neville spent two and a half hours reviewing first through fifth year transfiguration material. Kathryn, Neville learned, was wicked smart. Maybe smarter than Hermione, if not just more patient. She was able to wade with him through a ton of information, and make sure he was confident that he knew it all. Of course, they hadn't practiced any practical application, but he after going over all the mechanics he wasn't _too_ worried about that.

"Tomorrow, we can meet in McGonagall's room at seven to practice everything we went over today, and hopefully start on our N.E.W.T. stuff. Sound good?" said Kathryn.

"Sounds great," Neville replied. Just then his stomach let out a noise so ravenous that he glanced over at Madame Pince to make sure she didn't hear. She looked over at their table with an arched brow, but said nothing.

"Hungry?" Kathryn smirked.

Neville blushed a little. "I skipped dinner."

"You _skipped_ dinner?" she exclaimed. "Well then, we're finished here." She slammed her Transfiguration text book shut. "We're going to get you some food."

Neville glanced nervously at Madame Pince again. She eyed and gave the book she was holding a particularly violent stamp. "But it's half-past ten; the Great Hall's closed for the night."

"Neville," Kathryn whispered, leaning over the table, "You've been here six years, and you don't know how to get food after hours?"

"I've never been too explorative…" he said. "Any time I've been out of the tower after hours, I've gotten caught. Or hexed. Or both."

"Well, you're with Kathryn Parker, my friend," she said, sliding her books into her bag. "And Kathryn Parker doesn't get caught."

x

They were in a hallway directly below the Great Hall. Neville tried very hard to keep up with Kathryn's quick, light steps without making much noise, but it was if his feet were made of lead–each step was a loud, heavy klonk.

"Would you keep it down?" Kathryn hissed.

"This wasn't my idea," Neville whispered. "I wasn't born for sneaking."

"Shh. We're almost there." Kathryn was a few steps in ahead of him, and raised herself onto the tips of her toes. She reached up, and touched a portrait of bowl of fruit. But she wasn't just touching it. She was…tickling it.

"Are you tickling that pear?" Neville asked.

"Yes," Kathryn replied. "Even portraits like to have a laugh once in a while." The portrait swung open and she stepped inside. Neville quickly followed.

The kitchen was huge, almost identical to the Great Hall, except instead of candles in the air, there were pots and pans hanging on every bit of every wall. Kathryn walked with purpose to the very back of the room, and seated herself on a bench beside the grand brick fireplace. Neville pulled up a chair beside her.

"Well where's the food?" he asked.

She smiled and looked at a point just beyond his elbow. Standing beside him was a house elf wearing a bright pink tunic, and looking ever-so-cheerful.

"Miss Kathryn, how nice it is to see you again. Where is Miss Amelia?" the house-elf asked.

"Amelia is obeying the rules tonight," Kathryn said, a slight glimmer in her eye.

The house-elf's ears drooped for a moment, "It's okay, at least Miss Kathryn is still here to visit Daisy."

"Of course," Kathryn said. She nodded her head at Neville. "Daisy, this is my friend Neville Longbottom. Neville, this is Daisy."

Neville extended a hand for Daisy to shake. "How do you do?"

Daisy looked at his hand, perplexed, before bending and placing her head under it. Neville looked at Kathryn, who snickered, and awkwardly patted the house-elf's head.

Daisy looked up at Neville and smiled with crooked yellow teeth. "What can I get you two tonight?" Daisy asked.

"I'll have a peppermint tea and a basket of biscuits," Kathryn said.

Daisy looked at Neville expectantly. "Er, I'll have a sandwich. Any kind is fine. Surprise me."

Daisy's eyes widened. "That's all Mr. Neville wants?"

Neville shrugged. "I'll have a biscuit, too, if you can spare one."

"I'll see what I can do," Daisy said, a twinkle in her eye, before she disappeared.

"Daisy's something special." Kathryn smiled.

Neville nodded, "She's something."

Kathryn stretched her whole body with a yawn and curled up into her dining chair like a cat. "You've really never been down here before?"

"Nope," said Neville. "Like I said, I'm not one to venture out on my own. Also, my sneaking isn't quite up to par."

"That's a shame," Kathryn said through tired eyes. "There's so much here to see."

Neville relaxed his shoulders and slumped down in his chair a little. The fire was making him realize how tired he was. "How often do you come here?"

"For a while, my sister and I came here almost every night. We don't always see each other during the day, so our nightly kitchen visits are where we catch each other up on what's been happening. Lately, though, we haven't been coming. We've both been busy."

"I didn't know you had a sister," Neville said.

Kathryn nodded. "Amelia. She's a Hufflepuff, fifth year. Sweetest girl you'll ever meet. She's pretty, too. Prettier than I could dream to be." Kathryn looked into the fire, and before Neville could say anything, she said. "Do you have any siblings?"

"No, it's just me. My parents–" he paused. "Well they weren't able to have any more kids."

"I'm sorry," she said, sighing. "I always ask the wrong questions."

He shrugged. "I'm pretty content. My Gran keeps me company."

With a crack, Daisy appeared, followed by hovering trays of food. She placed a mug of peppermint tea and a small basket of cookies in front of Kathryn, and in front of Neville, she placed a platter stacked high with tiny sandwiches.

"I couldn't decide what kind of sandwich to make you, so I made them all," Daisy said. "I'll be back with your biscuits later."

"Actually, I think I'll be fine with this!" Neville called after her, vaguely panicked by the sheer number of sandwiches in front of him, but she was already gone.

"Do you want help with that?" Kathryn said with a lopsided grin.

"You have no choice in the matter," Neville said, and shoveled half the sandwich tower onto Kathryn's plate.

"It's going to be a long night."

**A/N:**

**I know it's been forever. School ate my soul for three months. I also know that this is a lame way to end a chapter; I was going to write more, but I was getting tired. I'll try to update more sometime this week. **

**As an extra note, I didn't edit this before I posted it, so if you catch any grammar mistakes, let me know! Thanks!**

**Sincerely,  
MK**


End file.
